Sweet Sixteen
by ShootinSta
Summary: The ups and downs of the main Enterprise characters' sixteenth birthdays. Update: Chapter 4: We now have T'Pol's sixteenth...
1. Hoshi

I woke up one morning, and for some reason I wanted to write about the _Enterprise _characters' sweet sixteen birthdays. This is what happened.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Enterprise_. I don't own the characters. This is only the product of some dream I don't remember.

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**Hoshi**

            5:05 pm

            _Well, they're _only _five minutes late_, Hoshi Sato thought to herself. She supposed to be having a birthday party with some of her closet friends, but none of them had shown up yet. A cone-shaped party hat sat on top of her head as sat at the table in her family's dining room. Not even her parents were there; both of them were out of town. But, she didn't worry -- her friends would be around soon enough.

            5:15

            Fifteen minutes late. _Maybe they were all going to burst out of the closets and surprise me? _Hoshi was getting anxious. She had resorted to playing all of the birthday whistles in boredom. Her eyes had become permanently fixed on the clock on the wall, watching the seconds tick by. 

            The hat had started to dig painfully into her throat, but she wouldn't take it off. When her friends came, if she didn't look like she having a good time for her sixteenth birthday, she'd be humiliated. "You were late" just wouldn't be a good excuse. So still had time...

            5:24

            _Traffic can hold you up for twenty-four minutes, easy._ Hoshi gnawed on her lip, still sitting in her 'honorary' chair her friends had told her to sit in when she talked to them last. Banners and ribbons hung off it, and the arms were even wrapped in toilet paper -- that just so happened to have various different foreign words written across it. She had actually started to translate all of the numerous phrases. There were actually some very funny things on it.

            Her fingernails drummed on the table, whistling quietly to herself. Her cake sat in front of her, completely untouched. The vanilla and chocolate swirled frosting looked oh-so-tempting, she almost found herself reaching for her fork. 

            But again, she just couldn't. It would be rude to just start digging into the cake. _They're just stuck in traffic._

            5:37

            One half of the "Happy Birthday, Hoshi!" banner fell.  She crawled from her seat, stretching out her stiff joints before she dragged a chair over to try and reattach the one side of the banner. After a few attempts, the other side came undone as well, sending the sign floating to the floor. Now all that showed was "Birthday, Hoshi". No 'happy', no exclamation point. The linguist-to-be thought that the sign was incredibly right. 

            That's when she heard the doorbell ring. She leapt from the chair, nearly twisting her ankle in the process, sprinting to the door with newfound energy. She opened it, beaming and spirited with a shout of "You finally made it!"

            A stranger stood at the door. "Yes, indeed I have. Would you like to send a donation to the 'Warp Five Pavilion and Research" fund? Every penny contributes --"

            "No thank you, I don't have any money." Hoshi cut in, closing the door in the man's face. Tears stung her eyes as she returned to the dining room, to her fallen banner and toilet papered chair. She didn't care about going through space at warp five, or any other speed for that matter.

            5:51

            The poor cake didn't stand a chance. At first Hoshi was trying to be subtle, taking off a chocolate rose and covering over the spot to make it look normal. After her friends were fifty minutes late, though, she just took her fork and started digging in. It was quite good, really, fluffy chocolate cake with lemon and vanilla filling. Her friends would've loved it.

            A quarter of the cake was gone before she even noticed it. It wasn't even cut neatly into to slices, she had just wrenched the platter over and started eating. She barely even enjoyed the confection. She didn't care about looking like a pig, or the fact that she had crumbs all down her nice, white sundress. Her friends weren't coming...

            6:00

            She called one of her friend's, Joey's, house. No one answered her message. That meant no one was around, or no one cared about a phone call. She was completely alone on her own birthday, half her cake was gone, and she had not a single present to her name.

            That prompted her into action. She picked something randomly out of her jewelry box and wrapped it up. She waited for a little while, then tore into the paper and tried to act surprised when she 'received' and gold necklace from herself. _I'm so pathetic_, she thought, whimpering as she threw the necklace onto the ground. 

            6:33

            The cake was gone. She had eaten the entire thing. Hoshi barely even noticed any difference it made on her appetite. She had been sick to her stomach when she started eating the thing, why should she feel any different now? The party hat had been ripped off her head just a few moments ago, and it now lay in a torn heap on the ground. 

            The decorations all over the house had been taken down when the hour-and-a-half mark hit. She had to live with the fact that no one was showing up. It wasn't that hard to deal with, really. She just had to act like it was another day in her life, not a _birthday…_

            6:45

            Hoshi turned on her computer and started to look over the messages that had been left over the past two hours.

            _"Hosh, I'm stuck in traffic. Can we meet at the Warp Five Café?" _

_            "My car _just_ broke down. I don't think I can make it Hoshi, sorry!"_

_            "Oh my God, I thought today was Sunday, not Monday! Sheila just called me to say we were meeting at the Warp Five Café for your birthday party! I'll be there in twenty minutes"_

_            "I just wanted to say 'Happy Birthday', to tide you over until tomorrow. That's your birthday, right?"_

_            "I'm grounded, Hoshi. I shouldn't have taken the hovercar out for a spin last night. Mom won't let me come to your party."_

_            "Some of us are waiting for you at the café, it's been a half hour, where are you?"_

            She felt miserable. Two of her friends had completely forgotten her birthday, others couldn't even _show up. _She really didn't feel like going to a birthday party anymore. She turned out the light and crawled into bed with a sigh. She curled up with her pillow and had forced herself to sleep by seven o'clock...


	2. Trip

Odd I write about sixteenth birthdays when I haven't even made it there yet. Heh.

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**Trip**

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            Music pounded in his ears. Strobe lights gave the backyard full of people an almost hallucinogenic look. Teenagers were dancing all over his yard, and he couldn't help but smile. He didn't think so many people would turn up.

            He didn't think that Melissa Foley would show up. But, there she was, right in his line of vision. She was wearing a black miniskirt and a gold halter top, dancing all by herself. He wished that he could muster up the nerve to actually go over and ask her dance, but all his teen years he'd had problems confronting women. It was a setback he hoped would pass in his later years.

            _She looked at me! _Trip turned himself around quickly, suddenly quite interested in the punchbowl. _What an interesting design...I wonder how they get it so round._ He mused, watching Melissa from the corner of his eye. She kept glancing towards him, curious sometimes and hopeful others. Mustering up all of his courage, he started walking towards her, glass of punch in his hand.

            "Punch! Oh thank you, Trip, I was getting so thirsty," She took the cup from his hand before he even had a chance to ask her. He just kept his eyes on the ground, smiling weakly.

            "You're welcome, I guess." He mumbled, before glancing up for the briefest moment. "Would ya…. Would ya like to --"

            "Some cake? Yes, please." She smiled at him; ruffling up his hair like her was some kind of puppy before sending him off. He turned away and started to walk off, mumbling to himself about being too short when she wore those high heels. He grudgingly started to smooth down his hair, but was still positively elated that Melissa Foley had actually spoken to him. It wasn't the conversation he had dreamed of, but it was still good enough for him.

            He stood at the table where a huge cake sat. It was big enough to feed all of the people at the party, and best of all, had pecans in it. He picked up the plate, glancing to where Melissa was just about every other second.

            "Girl troubles?" A feminine voice from the other side of the table called over the blasting music.   

            Trip was so shocked he dropped the cake on the grass. He looked up to find another girl his age grinning at him. "Natalie! You shouldn't sneak up on folks like that!" 

            The young woman grinned, handing over another piece of the cake. "Go on, talk to her. I hinted around that a Tucker was looking for a dance."

            "You didn't!" Trip scolded, glancing back at Melissa then back to his friend. Natalie only winked, before she ran off into the crowd. That must have been why Melissa was looking at him all the time, he decided. So, cake in hand, he started his march towards Melissa.

            And she started walking towards him. He felt as if the cake was going to fall from his hands again, he had started shaking so much. She opened her mouth, with those gorgeous red lips and perfectly straight white teeth, and to Trip's utter shock said, "Hey, you wanna dance?"

            He was right about to shout the most enthusiastic "yes!" the world had ever known when Melissa walked right past him, and right to his brother. Blue eyes stared in shock as they started dancing together, right there in front of him. 

            "Oh, Trip! You brought my cake." Melissa had finally seen him. "I'm busy right now, but you can eat it yourself."

            He was humiliated. He could hear his brother's laughter in the background as he sprinted away as fast as he could. The 'birthday boy' found himself sitting on the swing on his front porch, only getting up the entire night to get more cake and sneak some pecan pie out of the house. He couldn't believe Melissa asked his _brother_ to dance. And he was their waiter. 

            Trip didn't care when the night drew to a close and just about everybody, including Melissa, had gone home. He just felt like leaving his stack of plates right where they lay, and dying right then and there. 

            "Hey, tough guy, you want to dance with little old me?" Natalie had appeared in front of him, grabbing onto one of his hands and yanking him from his seat with surprising strength. 

            He tried to stand his ground, shaking his head firmly. "I'm not really in the mood…"

            "You've been moping all night long. You _are_ going to dance with someone, even if it's me."

            He gave in, too tired and embarrassed to argue with the high-energy girl. He could faintly hear a soft song playing in the background, just enough incentive to pull her closer. The soft fabric she wore glimmered in the streetlights, moving with her body. Something about the strawberry scent of her hair and the light fragrance of perfume around her seemed to make him heady. "Why didn't you ask me to dance with you earlier?"

            She glanced up, smiling briefly. "You were too interested in Melissa to care about little old me." She sighed, gently laying her head on Trip's shoulder as they danced song after song.

            Inside the house, Trip's mother took a picture of the two dancing. It reminded her of when she was a teenager, and her son to remember that rare and delicate moment forever. 


	3. Malcolm

And by popular demand: Reed!

I think I like making people miserable on their birthdays. I have no idea why, I just do.

But, don't worry. I know Archer's will be good. I don't know what to do with Travis and Phlox yet. Got an idea for T'Pol…

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**Reed**

            The pub was alive with activity. Teens and adults alike were swarming the small, rural bar like bees at a beehive. Both the age groups were swiping drinks like fiends, and more than one was swaggering and making asses out of themselves. Music blasted from a live band that had been hired -- one of the best bands in the community. The party was an absolute hit.

            And young Malcolm Reed hated every minute of it. He was the center of attention, it being his birthday and all, but he wanted to do was be alone. He'd just gotten a book on the weapons system of the newest ship in the Navy, the _Armageddon_ and wanted to stick his nose into as quickly as possible. But, of course, his friends said he couldn't be alone and acting like his old man on his birthday, so here it was, the party that they had set up just for him. If another person came up and asked how old he was or if he wanted to dance, he'd scream.

            "Hey, Mal!" One of his friends meandered up, arm wrapped around the shoulders of a girl who looked terribly uncomfortable. Her hair was a deep shade of red, and he thought her eyes were green, but in the dim lighting of the pub, they could've been hot pink and he wouldn't notice. "This is Nicole. Nicole, this is Malcolm. He's why this whole party is around."

            "Hello," was all Malcolm could muster up to say. He'd never been good with woman. All through middle and high school, there'd been a long string of girlfriends, and a long string of broken hearts…for the girlfriends. He couldn't help that his sulky nature and obsession with anything dangerous drew women to him like bears to honey. 

            His response drew a scowl from his friend as he gently pushed the girl towards Malcolm. He walked away into the crowd, calling, "_Talk_ to her! She won't bite!" The sixteen-year-old somehow doubted that his friend was telling the truth. 

            "You…want to dance?" A skeptical feminine voice beside him piped. He was seconds away from forgetting she was even there, and she just had to speak, didn't she? 

            His blue eyes glanced down at her, shaking his head. "I hate dancing. It's a useless pastime. Having people watch you do ridiculous dance steps is completely absurd." _Especially when I could be planning my career._

            "Fine." Nicole's voice seemed to grow a little bolder as she stood there, simply staring up at Malcolm. "I hear you're into ships and weapons. I know a thing or two about that. You want to sit down?"

            Hesitantly, he nodded, allowing himself to be lead to one of the tables in a quieter section of the pub. The girl seemed to look quite victorious, having managed to get the antisocial Malcolm Reed to sit with her. "I hear they're getting close to completing the first warp five vessel. It should be done any year now."

            "That what they've been saying for the past decade. Archer and his research crew keep getting close, but those damn Vulcans won't give us any information. They know how to reach speeds of over warp five, but won't tell us!"

            "Don't you have any optimism? Maybe they really are close to a breakthrough." Nicole raised an eyebrow as she continued, "You and I could see that ship launch one day. Maybe one of us will even be on it."

            The thought had never occurred to Reed. Once the first engine that could reach warp five was built, there'd be others. He'd had a fascination with the stars, rather than the water since he was little. He always was a lousy swimmer. "I doubt I could even get trained to get on one of those blasted ships. Starfleet Academy is quite difficult to get into."

            "Oh, come on! You've gotten plenty of awards and honors. Think of the weapons systems they'd have on one of those warp five ships." 

            Malcolm nearly fell over at the thought. Every hostile alien he ran into he could blast out of the sky. It was doubtful he'd ever get to blow anything up in the Navy, so think of going to strange new worlds…and obliterating them. His wonderful dazed was interrupted by the realization that Nicole's lips were on his. Everything in his mind said to return the kiss -- after all, this was a woman who said she knew something about weapons -- but he still pulled himself away. Confused and hurt, Nicole pushed herself from the table, and froze.

            "Malcolm Reed. What the hell are you doing here?" Malcolm's blood ran cold as he heard his father's voice behind him. "Get your ass out of this bloody pub this moment, young man!"

            The teenager paled as he stood up, rushing out of the building as he was told to do. A glance towards his old table told him that Nicole had run for her life. He stood outside, his skin turned a pasty white and his eyes locked on the ground. He knew something horrible was going to happen. He knew it.

            "What the hell do you think you're doing, young man? I came home just for your damned birthday, and you know what your mother tells me? You're gone!" Malcolm winced at the tone in his father's voice. The coldness of his voice deepened, cutting through the boy like a knife. "Then, I found out that you're at a pub, where the music can be heard two bloody miles away. And, to add that, I hear the wench and you talking about Starfleet Academy. Then you start kissing the woman. Did I raise you to do that, Malcolm?"

            "No sir." Was all that was said, quiet and shy as he said it.

            "And Starfleet Academy? What, the bloody _ocean _isn't big enough for you? Generations of Reeds have been in the Navy, and you throw it away for a spaceship that isn't even built yet!"

            A quiet anger bubbled up inside of him, as his eyes raised up to glance his father in the eye. "With all do respect, I think I have the right to choose what I want in life." He immediately regretted that. 

            A sharp _slap _greeted his words. But still, his father never raised his voice. It only turned calmer, colder, even more edged. "You _are not _going to go into space. Over my dead body, Malcolm! You're a Reed, and Reeds do _not _go gallivanting around with aliens and especially _Vulcans_. Making an alliance with them was a big mistake; we're going to lose Earth to people who aren't even human. I won't have my son helping them. Now get home. You may as well stay in your room until you're eighteen, because that's how long you're grounded."

            Malcolm stared down at the ground, slowly making his way to his hovercar in complete shame. He had been humiliated, completely and totally, at his own birthday party. But, it didn't matter. Because he was going to prove that a Reed _could _go into space and do damn well. He was dead set to keeping that goal in his sights. 

((Someone suggested I added more hints towards what the crew wanted to do in life. Hehheh. I think I went a little too far in this one.))


	4. T'Pol

And now, I finally get a chance to update this!

This is a short one…Oh well.

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**T'Pol**

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            "T'Pol, you do realize that this is the third time you have lost control of your emotions?" An aged Vulcan teacher stood over his younger student, the picture of emotional repression. Not a single ounce of disappointed shone on his face and T'Pol doubted that he felt a drop of that emotion.

            "Yes, I do, Slevik." The teenage Vulcan stared at the rocky ground before her. Like always, she was in a cavern to be taught how to suppress her emotions. The elders said that underground there were fewer distractions for meditation and reflection. She had to disagree. The entire two days that she had been there, the steady 'drip drip drip' of an underground stream had bore into her mind.

            The Vulcan master walked around her, his steps steady and calm. "This time, the teachings must stay with you. They are the foundation of every Vulcan belief."

            "I understand." T'Pol had to fight with all her might not to say the words through clenched teeth. She _didn't_ understand why she had to be in these dank and disgusting underground caverns. It all seemed to be a waste of her time.

            "Now, why did you attack your classmate T'Mek?" His words were greeted with complete silence. Her lack of words didn't anger him in the least, which had been the desired affect. "Answer me, T'Pol."

            The young Vulcan remained quiet for a moment, not wishing to answer the question. Slevik's eyes bore into her, forcing her to respond out of pure guilt. "She speaking of Verok in a humiliating manner. I thought it best to silence the rumors."

            If he wasn't pleased by her actions, he didn't show it.  "She was a fine student of mine. She would not say anything that was not true."

            T'Pol scowled, staring dully at the damp ground in front of her. He didn't care if it was her birthday -- no one did. The only thing that was done on Vulcan birthdays was meditate and pray…exactly the same as any other day. Celebrating birthdays was a human activity. Vulcans never involved themselves in things that the _humans _did. It would be insulting to the race. 

            "Why do you insist upon losing control of your emotions T'Pol? Do you wish to become a V'tosh ka'tur?"

            "No!"

            The master crossed his arms in front of him, staring coldly down at his student. "A Vulcan will not raise their voice. You should be aware of this, T'Pol."

            She remained silent, concentrating on the stead drip of the stream behind her rather than on the man's voice. She had every right to raise her voice; if the master couldn't understand that then he was useless. 

            "Since you already seem to be ignoring me, T'Pol, I will leave you here to meditate. When I return, I hope that you have a better understanding of your emotions." That said, Master Slevik turned and walked from the cavern. She listened to his footsteps until the sound completely disappeared. She was completely alone, the only sounds were that of her breathing and the drip that was beginning to wear on her nerves. 

            She began to stare into the flames of a nearby candle, trying desperately to drop herself into a meditative state. With the sound of the water behind her, it was nearly useless. Hours past with only slight luck. The steady noise of the trickle had begun to settle her into the state of mind that she wanted. Gradually, her mind cleared, her emotions subsided and a calm settled over her. 

            Then images of a ship appeared in her mind. She saw herself with a human crew, no other Vulcans to teach her logic within light years of where she was. Her eyes snapped open, a startled shock coming from her. That's when she realized that if she did not learn to suppress her emotions now -- if she was ever around humans, she would become one of them. And that was the most appalling thing she could ever think of. 

            When her master returned later that day, she had found that understanding of her emotions. And she no longer cared that it was her birthday. Caring was a human trait. 

((Okay, that wasn't so good. But what _do _Vulcans do on their birthday?))


End file.
